Rivals by Jilly Cooper: A Feminist and Ageing Perspective - An Editorial Review with an Unknown Narrative
- India Rose

- Jan 25
- 4 min read
Jilly Cooper's Rivals has captured the attention of many readers with its lavish portrayal of the lives of the wealthy. However, as I delved into the pages of this novel, I found myself grappling with a myriad of thoughts and feelings. Despite my best intentions to engage with the story, I was ultimately left uninspired and bored. In this review, I'll explore two major themes that emerged during my reading journey: feminism and the unique challenges of aging, while sharing my reflections and notes on the narrative.

A Lackluster Narrative
From the outset, I struggled to become invested in the story. My initial enthusiasm waned quickly as I found myself trudging through scenes that felt more like commentary on the lives of affluent individuals than a compelling narrative. It’s almost as if Rivals was a script waiting to become a television show rather than a fully fleshed-out novel. In fact, I never thought I would say this, but there's a strong case for the idea that Rivals might work better as a visual drama than as a written piece!
While reading, I couldn't help but notice that the writing style was jarring. The narrative jumped between characters without smooth transitions, making it difficult to follow along or become emotionally connected to any one individual. This disconnect left me wishing for a more seamless experience, and I often pondered whether binge-watching a screen adaptation of Rivals would provide a more gratifying experience than finishing the book.
The Feminine Perspective: Power and Vulnerability
One of the most striking themes that emerged for me was the exploration of power dynamics, particularly from a feminist perspective. Throughout the novel, the male characters are depicted as powerful and masculine, yet they seem to be attracted to vulnerability in women. It’s as if these men are drawn to those who don’t shower them with attention but exude an air of vulnerability.
Take Cameron, for example. When she shows signs of weakness or vulnerability, Rupert suddenly finds her more appealing. This presentation of gender dynamics raises important questions: Why are masculine figures often attracted to vulnerability? Are they truly interested in connection, or is it merely a superficial infatuation?
This theme did pique my interest as the narrative began to pick up midway through the book, particularly with Tony, the Venturer, uncovering Cameron's true self and Rupert's children spending time with her. However, the larger commentary on these power dynamics felt underdeveloped amidst the chaos of relationships and infidelity occupying the characters' lives.
The Pressure of Ageing: Relatable Struggles
As I turned the pages, another poignant theme emerged—aging and its emotional toll on women. Maude's character resonated deeply with me, as many women, including myself, begin to feel insecure about their appearance as they approach their 30s and beyond. The pressure to maintain beauty is magnified for those in the limelight, which reflects the broader societal expectations placed on women.
I've seen younger women resorting to Botox in their 20s, and it’s alarming. The societal scrutiny faced by women like Maude is insidious and exhausting. My sympathy for her character grew as I recognized the underlying complexities of her struggles with beauty, youth, and self-worth. Her storyline reflects a reality that resonates with so many women, making her journey relatable and, at times, heartbreaking.
A Disappointing Adaptation
I can't help but express my disappointment regarding the adaptation of Rivals into a television series. After watching the trailer, I felt that the casting, particularly for Rupert's character, did not do justice to the original portrayal in the book. Rupert was meant to be strikingly handsome, and in my opinion, they could have cast someone more fitting. This consideration is a reminder of the complex relationship between character portrayal in literature and the visual rendering in media.
Despite my grievances, I must acknowledge that the final quarter of the book redeemed some of my reading experience. The plot began to gather momentum, and I found myself momentarily engaged as characters' arcs intersected, leading to some intriguing developments. However, I was left feeling frustrated by the outcome of Rupert and Taggy's relationship. It felt clichéd and unearned, as though the narrative chose the most predictable path for resolution. In reality, such men's behaviours—unconditional shallow chase of beauty—often do not change or lead to meaningful growth.
Conclusion: A Mixed Bag
In reviewing Rivals, I am reminded of the delicate balance between engaging storytelling and the exploration of complex themes. While the book broaches significant topics such as feminism and age, its execution felt lackluster and disengaging. I found myself facing the dual challenges of navigating an oversimplified narrative about beauty and wealth while grappling with the absence of fluid character connections.
Ultimately, while I recognize there may be an audience for Jilly Cooper's tales of the well-to-do, I left Rivals feeling unsatisfied and largely disinterested. Perhaps for those enamored with reality TV or who seek spectacle over substance, this may be a fit. For me, I’d rather invest my precious reading time elsewhere—where captivating stories and meaningful character development happen.
As I prepare for my next book club meeting, I can't help but hope to share a richer narrative experience next time.






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